Beneath the Ancestral Stars
by Tazmy
Summary: Teyla has always had faith in the Ancestors.


A/N: Thank you so much to my amazing, wonderful betas Kodiak Bear Country, Sholio, and ang w. :) You're the best.

A/N: This story assumes that the Athosians no longer live on the mainland but rather have settled in a place called New Athos.

**Beneath the Ancestral Stars**

There is an old Earth story that Elizabeth once related to me over tea. It is an Ancient story of a people that were lead away from slavery and death into a promised land. "You are the Moses of your people, Teyla," Elizabeth had told me, even as I wondered if taking my people to the land of the Ancestors had been a mistake. Did any of us have the right to be here?

That was long ago, however, and Elizabeth and I rarely found time for tea anymore. Much had changed, and sometimes her words came back to haunt me. Moses guided his people home, but all of mine returned to lands not free from the Wraith, and I could not be with them; I could not keep them safe.

Tendrils of smoke wafted into the night sky, reaching up to the ancestral stars as though bringing the lost souls to their final destination. My team and many others from Atlantis raced through the devastation, trying to find any who might have survived, helping those who managed only to be wounded. The culling here had been thorough, and I do not know if enough of New Athos survived to begin again. Perhaps I must once more take up my staff and lead those that are left into safety, or will I do so only to fail them once again?

We had helped many cultures recover after a culling, and sometimes the faces were all too familiar, but this was my family. I did not try to stop the tears from falling as I took Halling's hand, gazing at his distant eyes. They saw only the stars above. He breathed slightly, and the medic nearby gave me the signal that there was no hope. I removed my jacket, placing it carefully beneath his head.

"I am sorry," I told him, for there was little else to be said. Fed on by a Wraith, he looked old and worn, his hand little more than bone.

"It is not your fault," he managed to mumble between heavy breaths. Reaching into my vest, I took out a small vial and anointed his head, asking the Ancestors to guide his journey home. Halling was always a man of great faith and I knew he would appreciate the prayer. "Thank you," he whispered, his hand growing limp. I closed his eyes, stopping only for a moment to pray once more. There was no sign of Jinto near his father, and I could only hope that he was with the missing survivors and not among the dying. The circle of life was cruel.

The Wraith were always a part of life from when I was a little child to when I grew up to fight with the Earth people. Many of us dared not dream of a world without the Wraith, but I had always been the stubborn child. "We will find a way to end this," I had told my father all those years ago.

He merely laughed, nodded his head and said, "If anyone could do it, it would be you, my daughter."

But I did not. The battlefield spread out before me proved this. The Wraith still culled, prowling our galaxy with their evil intents, and though we had done much to fight them, my people still lay dying at my feet. I moved to the next injured soul, only to see the light fade from his eyes. I anointed Jacob all the same. Let the Atlantians handle the wounded for now; today I had a different job.

"You must stay strong," I told Sartyl, the medicine woman of New Athos. I had never liked it when Father took me to see her, but watching her lying on the ground, threading the line between life and death, I could not help but feel chilled. This woman had saved many of us, had comforted me after my mother's death, and had held many of our hands through illness. She did not deserve this fate.

"Fear not, Teyla. It is to a far better place that we go. You lead us well."

I prayed to the Ancestors every night, even on missions. John did not understand, but he let me be. Ronon sometimes joined me. Rodney, well, Rodney never tolerated much in the way of religion.

"After everything you've learned about them, you still look to them as if they're gods? You're not an ignorant primitive anymore, you should--"

Whatever Rodney meant to say was lost to me. I had grabbed his arms tightly, locking them behind his back in a quick swing. He cried out in pain, more than I am sure he was actually in. "I do not insult your beliefs, Rodney, you will not insult mine."

Except for a few mutters here or there, it was the last time Rodney interrupted my meditations. I could see in John's eyes that he agreed with Rodney, but he had always been smart enough to know when to let things be. John might not have understood, but he never said anything, not even to berate me for attacking Rodney. I knew I should not have lost my temper, but sometimes my beliefs were all that I had.

Did the Ancestors watch over us? Was it true that they took such a small interest in their children's lives? Or was it simply that they knew that it was best to let their children be?

"Why do the Ancestors let the Wraith hurt us?" I had asked Charin shortly after my father's death.

"It is not our way to question them, only to know that they have our best interests at heart."

I continued to anoint the heads of the dying, even as the same questions passed through my mind. I had been taught that evil was allowed to exist because without the darkness one could not see the light, but I saw little purpose in letting the Wraith continue. How much family did I have to lose before the Ancestors decided it was enough?

So many faces. All of them my family and all of them so dear. They had looked up to me. Had made me their leader, and I had abandoned them to fight a cause that had called to me all of my life, since my earliest memory. "As the Ancestors have blessed you in life, may they also bless you in death," I whispered beside each body. "May all your pain cease and may you find hope in the new world that awaits you."

The words were not empty. I had heard them many times in my life and each utterance of the prayer gave me comfort and hope. But sometimes I feared that my heart was not always in it. The Ancestors had come to Atlantis, forcing me, my team, and all that dwelled there to pack up and leave. In their ignorance, they were destroyed, and though I was loath to admit it, some of my faith shattered that day.

Just as it was both comforting and breaking me as I played priest to the dying.

"Why?" I cried, once all the bodies had been seen to, and I had retired to somewhere private. "Why don't you stop this?" The tears streaming down my cheeks boiled in my stomach. I felt empty and sad, stifled by a sorrow that would abate but would never truly go away.

I stared up into the ancestral stars, breathing in the sparkling lights. I knew I would receive no verbal answer, but I could feel the Ancestors holding me, comforting me. I knew it was not my imagination, for I had felt this before.

"You are touched," the village priest had told me. "You are blessed among our people, destined to provide for us." That was the day I had accepted the staff, the day that I became a leader.

"Have I failed them?" I asked, brushing away the tears and sweat, smudging the dirt on my face. "What am I to do for them now? If ever there was a time for your guidance, I could use it now."

A cool wind brushed past me, soothing away the warmth from the fires. I stared at the devastation, shaking. I could hear my teammates calling for me, but I did not answer. They would try to comfort me, and comfort was not what I needed—not what I wanted. I just wanted to be alone.

The survivors were to be brought back to Atlantis. They would need me to be strong. In the here and now, alone, this was my time, for as short as it would last, to just break down—to ask why.

Did Moses ever experience this? I would have to ask Elizabeth.

"Teyla!" This last voice was not of my teammates or anyone else from Atlantis. Young, but still low, it came from Jinto.

"I am here," I answered, allowing relief to hold me. They had found survivors.

"Teyla!" Jinto looked uninjured as he ran to me, grasping his arms tightly around me. He had grown to be so tall and his voice had broken. Could this really be Jinto?

I patted his back lightly. "We were worried about you."

"Is it true? Is it true what they said? Is father dead?"

I had asked the same question so long ago, and it stung to hear it again. I nodded, barely managing to say, "Yes. I am sorry for your loss, but I am also glad that you are alive."

Jinto wept while I continued to hold him, controlling my own sorrow. Glancing up, I saw Rodney, John, and Ronon watching us while trying to keep their distance.

"How many?" I asked, though I was afraid to know.

"Forty," John replied. He crossed his arms, trying to act nonchalant, but I could see the worry in his eyes. I realized that tears still stained my face; they could now see through my strong facade.

"Then we will thank the Ancestors for their safety," I replied, more for Jinto to hear than anything else. The boy was shaking in my grasp.

Rodney didn't say anything, though I saw him roll his eyes. I knew well enough that it was hard to keep faith in desperate times, but I felt sadder for Rodney, a man with nothing to believe in other than science. Was it lonely for him in darker moments? He'd tell me no, but I wouldn't be so sure.

The forty survivors waited in a clearing, taking what they could on their backs. They would rebuild somewhere as all colonies did after a culling, but for tonight they would go to Atlantis and they would rest. While offering each of them a helpful hand onto the gate platform, I thought of the prayers I would say with them back on Atlantis.

When the last had made it through, I stared up at the ancestral stars, filled with beauty and hope. Then I entered the gate and returned home.

**The End**

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this exploration of Teyla.


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